December 7, 2009
After flying halfway around the world, nine days of non-stop activity and 28 hours of travel back to my home in Springfield, Mo., I have been pretty useless for the past few days.

I am so very glad I went and like all the guys who made the journey, I am thrilled we were able to bring some happiness into a few people’s lives for the short time we were there.

It happened because so many people supported us along the way. I would encourage you to check out the Troops First Foundation, which includes Rick Kell, his daughter and a host of dedicated men and women who are impacting many of our troops and their families.

As we traveled it was great to hand out products at each location. All the guys got different products from sponsors and friends. In what has been a very difficult economic year, these fine companies never hesitated to reach out with items we could give away. All the gifts were met with appreciation and big smiles.

• Cobra Golf (Acushnet Company) donated golf clubs
• Pinnacle Golf (Acushnet Company) sent a very generous amount of golf balls for us to hit, sign and give away
• Adams Golf donated golf clubs
• Tom Watson gave away countless Bass Pro Gift Cards and Adams Caps
• Corey Pavin gave away AT&T calling cards and Ryder Cup caps
• Bogey Pro donated T-Shirts and caps
• Whippy Tempomaster graciously donated training clubs

Also, a big thank you to Art Sellinger for his energy and desire to make a difference in the lives of our troops. Many of the products handed out came because of calls he made. Lastly, thank you Golfweek for posting the ramblings of a C student turned ‘golf ball whacker guy.’

Now that I’ve been home I’ve had time to reflect on our goodwill trip.

I have also been able to answer questions from some of my friends who knew I was going. The question that that surprises me the most is, “How was the food?” How was the food? At first the question seemed a bit weird but I have come to realize it is just a concern that people have for the daily well-being of the troops. All I know is every place we went there was an abundance of food in DFAC (Dining Facilities). In fact it made me want to go on a diet … again. How can one go to Iraq for 10 days and gain weight? I’m not saying I did.

The other question I get a lot has to do with the morale of our troops. What I saw was a singleness of purpose and a dedication to doing the job they have been sent to do. I came away thinking these are the brightest men and women I have ever met.

During a trip to COP Cashe South I had the distinct honor of meeting LTC Mark Kneram and his right hand man CSM Clinton Reiss. After landing, we were ushered into the area where we would be doing our clinic. I walked past LTC Kneram and shook his hand like a thousand other people I had met. We then put our gear in a building and I asked our host where the person in charge was because I wanted to make sure and thank him. He said, “Oh, you probably just met him, he was right outside as you walked in.”

Sure enough, I walked out and here was this guy who could have passed for any one of my friends back home. He was just hanging back, no pretension, no, “Mr. Look-Who-I-Am.” Humble, quiet, friendly and not enough space to paint the picture of Mr. Kneram, and his CSM Reiss, who was identical in his hospitality. We engaged in some small talk and friendly banter. How was I to know what kind of men they are or what they had been through? I decided to look and here is a little of what I found.

LTC Mark S. Kneram enlisted in the Army in 1983. His awards and decorations include the Bronze Star (2 OLC), Defense Meritorious Service Medal, Meritorious Service Medal (2 OLC), Army Commendation Medal (3 OLC), Army Achievement Medal, Good Conduct Medal, National Defense Service Medal (2nd award), Southwest Asia Service Medal (2 stars), Afghanistan Campaign Medal, Iraq Campaign Medal, Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal, Global War on Terrorism Service Medal, NATO Medal, Kuwait Liberation Medal (Saudi), Kuwait Liberation Medal (Kuwait), Combat Infantry Badge (with star), Expert Infantry Badge, Airborne Badge, Air Assault Badge and Ranger Tab.

CSM Clinton J. Reiss enlisted into the United States Army in November 1984. His awards and decorations include: the Bronze Star Medal with Valor; Bronze Star Medal (with second Oak Leaf Cluster) Meritorious Service Medal (with 3rd Oak Leaf Clusters); Army Commendation Medal (with 6 Oak Leaf Clusters); Army Achievement Medal (with 9 Oak Leaf cluster); Good Conduct Medal (6th Award); National Defense Service Medal; Korean Defense Service Medal; Southwest Asia Ribbon (with 3 Bronze Stars); Iraq Campaign Ribbon; Global War on Terrorism Service Medal; Global War on Terrorism Expeditary Medal; Humanitarian Service Medal; NCO Professional Development Ribbon (with Numeral 4); Army Service Ribbon; Overseas Service Ribbon; Joint Meritorious Unit Medal with oak leaf cluster; Valorous Unit Medal; Combat Action Badge; Senior Parachutist Badge and Pathfinder Badge.

Two American heroes, men like so many others around the world doing their thing as best they can with a smile on their face. They were grateful for our trip in to see their troops. We did the best we could to make it a good night for them. It was late and I am quite sure many of the participants didn’t know a sand wedge from a sandwich. I never heard the hint of a complaint from anyone while in conversation. I know things have to be tough. Are you kidding? It’s a tough job and it’s an enormous sacrifice to risk your life and be away from your loved ones.

As I have written in previous blogs, I hate being away from my family for even two or three days, nevermind a year or more. It physically pains me to imagine leaving my house tomorrow and not being home again until Dec. 5, 2010. One year! How many ball games would I miss? How many nights at home gathered for a meal or in our family room watching a movie? How many Sundays in church with my bride and two children next to me? Good or bad, how many special, fleeting moments would I never be able to get back?

Now when I think of our troops I will think of what they and their families sacrifice on a daily basis. I will pray for them and their loved ones back home. And I will look for ways to make a difference in some of their lives. It is the least I can do for their dedication to making a difference in my family’s life.

You always worry that your efforts are too little to really make a difference. I posted a picture of a certain gentleman on this Golfweek Blog. His sister sent me a note and said I had given her a “gift.” It was a picture of her beloved brother. She was thrilled to see him on the Golfweek site. If something as simple as a picture can have an impact on someone else then I suppose there is nothing too small we can do.

I just keep asking, what can I do?

December 4, 2009
Today starts our final day in Iraq. It would prove to be like every other day we have had: long and filled with a lot of unknown.

There has been an overall theme for us throughout our days in this country when troops would ask, “Where are you going next?” All we could ever say was, “Hey, I don’t know where I am going to be an hour from now.”

Part of that was security related and part was just a need to be flexible. There are a lot of parts working at once to move us and set up our daily schedule so we had to just show up and be ready. The troops would laugh at us and say, “Welcome to our world!”

I was most impressed with Rick Kell and his contacts with the MWR who made everything come together so seamlessly. Case in point was our final day at Al Asad and our intended time of departure. We ate (of course) and made our way to the airstrip for an 8:45 a.m. departure. At 1 p.m. we were still sitting in the lounge. We got word that the C-130 that was on its way to pick us up had a fire in one of its engines and had to land. Everyone was alright and there wasn’t any trouble, but that did leave us without transportation from Al Asad to Ali Al Salem Airbase in Kuwait.

Believe it or not, no one really had any desire to get in a car and drive there. Well, maybe Simpson, but I am pretty sure he once chased a grizzly bear into a tree, yanked him out onto the ground and made him cry. Twice!

Through the magic phone calls of Rick and our studs and the MWR, we were told another C-130 was on its way and we would be leaving shortly. Sure enough, it flip-flopped into Al Asad and we boarded, eager to make our way to Kuwait for our midnight flight back home to the States.

On this day I would make a few adjustments from our previous flight into Al Asad. Tom Watson prompted me to jump up front with the pilots on the flight deck and grab a seat. I did not hesitate. With the last C-130 ride fresh in my memory, I was going to do anything I could to make sure I didn’t have my breakfast end up someplace it shouldn’t.

As luck would have it, we got the same crew that flew us in on Thanksgiving Day. I made sure I let them know I wasn’t real appreciative of their pitiful attempt at making us sick the last time. They just laughed and said the wind was stronger than normal. All I could respond with was, “YOU ARE BIG FAT LIARS.” I know, pretty nasty, huh? They seemed unaffected by my insult. In fact they giggled a bit.

What do you expect out of 25-year-old guys who have to face the threat of real bullets or bombs coming at them every time they get behind the steering wheel of their fat, slow plane?

Here are the cliff notes of the next 12 hours:

• Fly two hours to Ali Al Salem Base
• Spend an hour getting bags from bag Claim area
• Drive an hour and a half to Arifjan Camp outside Kuwait City
• Stay there two hours
• Drive an hour and a half back to Kuwait Airport
• Take an hour plus to go through security, customs and cavity searches
• Sit for three hours waiting on our 12:30 a.m. flight to Dulles
• Laugh for two hours at Tim Simpson’s (Desert Foghorn) unbelievably loud snoring
• That makes a total of 12 hours leading up to our 15-hour flight to Washington D.C.

Throw in three hours of customs and cavity searches upon our arrival in D.C., a two-hour flight from D.C. to Chicago, a three-and-a-half-hour layover in Chicago and an hour-and-a-half flight from Chicago to Springfield, Mo., and you have one tired little boy.

My family was waiting when I got to the baggage claim area. They said I looked a bit worn out, and even a little different. I don’t know how you couldn’t be different after a trip like we just took.

Once again, I thank you for following along. Meeting all the great men and women in uniform has been an amazing honor. My last blog will be a “finishing touches” recap of our trip.

December 2, 2009
We toured around Al Asad Airbase today. Al Asad is the largest U.S. military airbase in the western province of Al Anbar. The base is located roughly 100 miles west of Baghdad. We were told Al Asad means “The Lion” and that it was once housed part of Saddam’s Air Force.

The base has a 15-mile perimeter and because of the vast openness surrounding it, attacks have been infrequent of late. It seems the knuckleheads will still try and shoot something in there but our folks have made it very difficult to do so. There aren’t many places to hide outside the wall.

Our first stop took us to see the medical choppers and meet the guys who flew them. I tried to get in one, but the model they had seemed to be a bit tight. Budget cuts I guess.

I got a couple pictures holding an unloaded weapon. I am sure these troops don’t ever get sick of that. Kind of like golfers wanting to hold our drivers I guess. They were quick to make sure I didn’t have my finger on the trigger. Somehow they could tell I had only been hunting twice in my life and I was not to be trusted with any type of weapon. Now I know what people feel like when they grab my club and I mention something about not leaving it with “dummy marks!”

Next we were off to meet the MP’s on base. With no area to hit balls, we were forced to improvise. Bobby had them get plywood and they brought back a piece that was 1 inch thick. I don’t care how big a stud you are, golf balls are not going through a piece of wood that thick.

Then they found a slightly smaller piece that was only 3/4 inches thick. Typically, this is still a bit much but it was all we had and Bobby kind of figured what the heck, let’s hit it until it goes through.

Bang! The first ball goes halfway into the wood and sticks. They loved it. The dryness of the wood made it possible to hit it through. The second one stuck again. The third one went right through. What a wuss, huh?

True to form, I started a chant to see who wanted to see Tom Watson hit it through the wood. They did, and of course he had no qualms about trying it. Being a smart man, he hit it through Bobby’s hole and then Corey Pavin did the same. We can make a hole faster than they can but they can sure get it in the hole quicker. Maybe that’s why they have won 876 odd tournaments. But don’t forget, “Chicks dig the long ball.” At least that’s what I’ve heard.

Our second clinic of the day started on a soccer field with the boys hitting balls at a commercial dumpster 75 yards away. Two went in out of the 200 that were hit. I only hit five so I didn’t bring the odds down very much. Pavin hit one in and Watson hit one in. After just four days with Bobby and me they had converted into long drivers and forgot how to hit wedges.

We then moved to the top of a roof on a nearby building so we could hit some balls where the folks could see them. Even Captain Pavin could have knocked it off the soccer field.

The roof top was a lot of fun and there were plenty of targets. This time they included light poles, helicopters, tanker trucks, an office building and a couple guards. There is nothing quite like hearing the roar of a crowd after you have picked out a light pole from 150 yards and hit it. Who cares if I have never won on tour? I am now complete.

Our week was coming to a close and we had one more stop to make. The folks in charge wanted to take us to the top of the ridge that overlooks the base. All you could see in every direction was brown sand and rocks. Sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of all this nothingness was a green oasis. There in the midst of all that yuck was a sea of flourishing trees and water. It made me think once again of our troops and what they stand for.

THIS BLOG WAS ORIGINALLY WRITTEN NOVEMBER 27.

December 2, 2009
Today is Thanksgiving. It is a day with a long-standing tradition of eating piles of turkey and watching football. We did that before the day was over, but in ways that were not the norm.

It was checkout time at the JVB (Joint Visitors Bureau) because we would be catching a C-130 and traveling west to Al Asad Airbase. As was the case for most of the trip we had to maintain a certain degree of flexibility with our departure times. We had originally been scheduled to leave early and get to Al Asad and have Thanksgiving lunch with the troops. Those plans changed and we headed to Camp Victory for our meal.

On the drive over we spotted a large group of soldiers playing flag football. Because we had plenty of time before lunch we decided to stop and watch. There were multiple teams and when we got there they were playing the championship game.

It may have just been flag football, but you would not have wanted to be on that field unless you had on some padding. The weather was a picture perfect and these guys were jumping and screaming and having a great time. I snapped some pictures and shot video of a few plays.

Of course, there were players there who recognized Watson, Pavin and Simpson, and once the game was over they stopped by to meet them. As usual, our guys went out of their way to be accommodating.

At lunch we ran into Commanding General Raymond Odierno. He was out seeing the troops. I can’t imagine how many holidays he has sacrificed away from his family to serve our country. Here is what one of my new friends in Iraq told me about the General:

“Did you know that he used to be the commander of III Corps at Fort Hood, Texas? He came out here with them in 2007-08 for 15 months, went home in the spring of 2008, and then got picked as the MNF-1 Commander, so he turned around and came right back in the fall of 2008 and has been here ever since. 2010 is right around the corner and he will probably be here for a good bit of next year. ounting West Point, that (more than) 38 years of choppers and C-130’s so far.”

I have no doubt the troops appreciated it. In fact, it was fun to watch men and women take pictures with him. It was like watching people come up to an athlete or movie star. This time though, they were in the presence of a real hero.

After lunch it was time to put on the gear, say our goodbyes and head to Al Asad. I was told it would be a 40-minute flight. Once in the air things were great for about 30 minutes and then our hosts in the cockpit decided they would give us some fun, at our own expense.

As we descended into Al Asad they did a couple maneuvers that made all of us go weightless. When I saw the fire hydrant of a man Tim Simpson lift off his seat I knew I was in trouble. Later, these young, snotty-nosed punks said the moves had to do with safety, something about avoiding small-arms fire. I say it had to do with them being bored and wanting us to get sick.

There is nothing I like about sitting sideways in a plane with no view out a window. C-130’s should be outlawed.

Once we hit the ground we met with our MWR contact and headed to a place called the “White Elephant” for a meet and greet. They had a big wall of fame and it was cool looking at all the different people who had been there before to meet the troops.

Later that night I tried to call my wife to wish a Happy Thanksgiving, a holiday we have spent together for the past 20 years. The phone area was packed with troops and once I found a spot to call I couldn’t get through. Calls kept getting dropped, lines were busy or I just couldn’t catch her on her cell. I must have dialed 20-25 times when I finally got through to my daughter. Fifteen seconds later the call dropped un-expectantly and I could not get them back.

I was so frustrated and angry about not being able to get through, I just said forget it. I was able to send a quick e-mail wishing them all well. For me it would only be a week of not communicating. I had to think, what about all these men and women I was meeting, how often do they just go to their room and say, “Forget it?”

THIS BLOG WAS ORIGINALLY WRITTEN ON NOV. 26.

Ian Poulter speak to us from the Sherwood Country Club in Thousand Oaks, CA.

Ian Poulter speak to us from the Sherwood Country Club in Thousand Oaks, CA.